


vacation, all he never wanted

by screamlet



Series: our gilded age [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dialogue Heavy, Ensemble Cast, Multi, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5808400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamlet/pseuds/screamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ELIZA> You are going to take a vacation.<br/>HAMILTON> i’ll talk to potus<br/>ELIZA> IT WAS HIS IDEA.<br/>*<br/>Alexander gets a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	vacation, all he never wanted

**Author's Note:**

> \+ Same universe as [every day is a gift that's why they call it the present](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4894066), where people's Cabinet positions/roles are 1794-ish: Washington's fifth year in office, Burr a senator from NY, Hamilton as the Treasury Secretary, and I've kept Jefferson on as Secretary of State for fun. EVERYONE IS A GODDAMN LAWYER. John Laurens is alive because fuck you that's why.  
> \+ The Chief of Staff in this production will be played by [Raúl Esparza](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ra%C3%BAl_Esparza). His character's name is also Raúl Esparza because why the fuck not. (Check out LMM and Raúl singing [A Boy Like That](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOoKi6q9ZXE). No reason, just for fun!) Angelica Hamilton is [Yara Shahidi](http://celebritiesofcolor.tumblr.com/tagged/yara-shahidi).  
> \+ The "Church" referred to once or twice is John Church, Angelica's historical husband.

ELIZA> Cleared it with the other partners: the Hamiltons are GOING ON VACATION!!!

In 2016

Specifically June 27 through July 8

I also invited Angelica and her John and our John- am I missing anyone?

Besides the kids, smartass

Obviously since it’s October I’m on round two of narrowing down the study programs available for summer 2016. They should be ready for Angelica and you to look at and for the kids to provide input by next weekend. We’re not missing those early bird deposit discounts!!! 

Okay that was six uninterrupted texts DID YOU DIE?

HAMILTON> baby i was in the situation room you know they block shit down there

can’t do that week of june- week before congress fucks off for the summer i got a lot of shit to fight people about

ELIZA> Do you really think I submitted my vacation leave without looking at the Congressional calendar? They’re off those two weeks, so you’re off those two weeks.

HAMILTON> ok but i NEED those two asshat-free weeks for strategy 

ELIZA> You and John can strategize at the lake.

HAMILTON> YO you know it’s not the same without his bedroom’s view of the city that never shuts the fuck up

ELIZA> You are going to take a vacation.

HAMILTON> i’ll talk to potus 

ELIZA> IT WAS HIS IDEA.

It wasn’t BUT he hugged me and said he would do whatever it takes to get you to take a vacation.

HAMILTON> what

he hugged you???

he doesn’t hug me

*

“Good morning, sir,” Hamilton said as he entered the Oval. “So about that—”

“You’re going on vacation, Hamilton,” Washington said without looking up. “Eliza already told me you’re digging your heels about taking a break, so this is an executive order: you’re going on vacation.”

“ _She_ gets to text you directly?” Hamilton asked. 

“ _She_ remembers that all written communications that pass through the Executive branch are subject to FOIA,” Washington replied. “So yes, _she_ gets my direct number. Don’t bother searching her phone for it because you won’t find it.”

“Are you and my wife pulling some _Breaking Bad_ shit behind my back, sir? I haven’t watched that show but this sounds shady as fucking hell,” Hamilton said, then remembered to add: “ _Sir_.”

“It’s eight months away, Hamilton,” Washington said. “You’re going on vacation. Make your peace with it. Do what literally everyone else does and get it done before then.”

“What if the economy collapses?” Hamilton asked.

Washington looked up from the papers he was reviewing and stared at Hamilton for a long moment.

“And how would you do that, exactly?”

“Not _me_ , sir, but _the market_ ’s always in flux and this so-called vacation is eight months away—we just don’t know what kind of disaster could strike between now and—”

“Are you threatening to hold the American economy hostage so you don’t have to go on vacation with your family?” Washington asked. “I’ll remind you that irony doesn’t exist in the Oval Office.”

Hamilton did, actually, think about it for a minute, and then stood up to leave.

“This isn’t over,” he said to the President before he left.

The door closed behind Hamilton and Washington shook his head. 

“We had a meeting, Alexander,” Washington sighed to himself. 

*

HAMILTON> baby it’s me on a temp phone uhhhhh long story the chief of staff confiscated my phone and then went to lunch in boston and no one has the key to his office because raúl doesn’t TRUST ME for some reason so i had to buy a burner phone and that’s why im texting you from a mystery number

also it’s me alex #1 husband

anyway potus didn’t look happy about vacation so guess u better cancel or go without me BABY GIRL I LOVE YOU MORE THAN LIFE ITSELF OK SEE YOU AT HOME BYE ILU 

*

Hamilton’s cheap burner phone lit up and vibed after his last text.

“You got my texts,” he said.

“Hamilton, it’s Burr,” said the unmistakable voice of Aaron Burr.

“The fuck? Why do you have my wife’s phone?” Hamilton asked.

“Why don’t you have your wife’s phone number memorized?” Burr asked.

“...are you kidding.”

“I’m not, baby girl,” Burr said. 

“Ugh,” Hamilton said. “I hate that you know that now.”

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“Mmhmm,” Burr said. “Bye, Hamilton.”

“No one memorizes phone numbers anymore, okay!” Hamilton interrupted. “I haven’t connected my contacts to the cloud yet and I was probably just one or two numbers off! Whatever!”

“Don’t you have a work phone that also—”

“Look, smart ass, my various phones are in various places inaccessible to me right now so maybe just MIND YA BUSINESS.” 

“I’m actually at a meeting at your partner’s firm,” Burr said. “Do you want me to get Laurens on the line and he can give you Eliza’s number? In case you forgot his, too.”

“Why does the word _partner_ sound so awful coming out of your mouth?”

“So that’s a no?”

“...no, it’s not. Could you put John on the phone?”

Burr chuckled and Hamilton thought about taking a detour to drown himself in the Lincoln Memorial’s Reflecting Pool. 

“Yo, why are you calling Burr’s phone?” Laurens asked. 

“He called me.”

“He said you forgot Eliza’s number.”

“And what’s the last fucking number you memorized? Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

“Oh man, I bet you don’t even have your kids’ cell numbers memorized. _I_ have your kids’ cell numbers memorized. Burr, you know Theodosia’s number, right?”

“Stop bonding with my mortal enemy over what a shitty person I am!” Hamilton said. “At this rate I can just walk across town and then me and Eliza will talk shit about _you_.”

“She loves me too much, it’ll never happen,” Laurens replied. “Okay, this your temp number? I just texted you Eliza’s info. Also now it’s in Burr’s phone, so you watch out for him coming after our girl.”

“I hate you both,” Hamilton said. “Get back to your circle jerk, I changed my mind and I’m gonna break into Raúl’s office.”

“Okay, and let Burr know if he needs to bail you outta federal prison. Here, he’s back.” 

Burr came back on the line. “I could hear you scream _circle jerk_ from three feet away.”

“Oh, guess I wasn’t loud enough,” Hamilton said. “Thanks for your help. I’ll forget your number immediately.”

“It’s all right, I don’t have yours in my contacts anyway.”

“What? That’s just bad business, _Aaron_ , considering we work together and you never know when I might be calling you with urgent government business and shit.” 

“I trust you’ll find me,” Burr said. “Like you did just now. Are we done?”

“Be NICE TO ME, DAMMIT,” Hamilton said.

“Bye, Alexander.”

*

HAMILTON> did the lake up at your dad’s get wifi yet 

ELIZA> You mean did we wire for internet the 80 acres of farmland and woods surrounding my father’s house?

HAMILTON> yea

ELIZA> There’s wifi in the house.

HAMILTON> do we even get service up there when we’re not “in the house”

ELIZA> Outside is for nature and family and enjoyment and peace.

Inside is for phones and internet.

THIS ISN’T THAT DIFFICULT.

*

Hamilton arrived at his lunch reservation early and sat down at the first table he saw so he could keep texting Eliza and Angelica. He couldn’t remember if the last time they were up at the lake, when the house wifi went down for no fucking reason, if his portable hotspot didn’t work because they were in THE WOODS or because Eliza had put some kind of signal blocker in every tree in a 5-mile radius of the house. That was about how far he walked to check his email before he sat on a rock and cried a little.

A voice over Hamilton’s head announced: “Excuse me—is this my Alexander? My tiny, angry, ponytailed economist, with the foulest emails and texts ever subpoenaed by the French Parliament? Is that him?”

Hamilton jumped out of his seat and threw his phone at another table in shock because LAFAYETTE.

“It’s YOU,” Hamilton said as he rushed around the table to embrace him and get kissed on his cheeks loudly and publicly while every lobbyist in the city tried not to watch. “Look at your face, holy fuck, it makes me believe in god to look at you.”

Lafayette let him go, but held him at less than an arm’s length so they could look at each other. “You beautiful liar, I forgot the grating sound of your voice as you lavish me with compliments.”

“I’m tearing up a little, too, bro, look at me, look at what you do to me,” Hamilton said. Lafayette pulled him into his arms again and Hamilton thought he would be okay if they never let go of each other.

They were shaken out of the moment by Hercules Mulligan, who slapped a hard hand on Lafayette’s back and in the other held up Hamilton’s phone.

“You hit James Madison in the forehead with this,” Mulligan said. “I don’t know how, because he was two tables away, but you did it and I’m so goddamn proud of you.”

“My dearest friend,” Lafayette said to Mulligan.

“My hottest friend, I mean goddamn, would you _look_ at you? Look how good you look now that you’re not trying to make it as a politician getting paid in hopes and dreams. I’m so damn proud of you for getting your head on straight.” Mulligan and Lafayette embraced for a long moment, then dragged Hamilton back into their hug. “Would you tell this one—”

“Tell who what? I need subjects, objects, come on,” Hamilton mumbled at them.

“ _Lafayette_ , please tell _Hamilton_ to get the hell out of politics—”

“Christ, not you, too,” Hamilton sighed.

“We will talk, we will talk,” Lafayette assured them. “But where is our fourth, your half, where—” 

There was Laurens, who announced himself from the restaurant’s other side by crashing into a waiter with a tray full of water glasses, loudly swearpologizing at a table of bishops and then swearing even more when one of them tried to reprimand him.

“Please, walk, don’t hurt yourself,” Hamilton called across the room, getting an obscene hand gesture for his trouble. “We’re not going anywhere, promise.”

Laurens walked by Hamilton and tugged at his ponytail before he launched himself at Lafayette. “Never leave me, Gil,” Laurens sighed. “You give the best hugs. I never wanna leave.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean,” Hamilton said.

“Shh, do you hear something,” Lafayette whispered back. “I only hear the beating of our hearts.”

“I’m not sharing my ceviche with either of you assholes,” Hamilton snapped. “Fuck you both.”

Mulligan raised his eyebrows and took a seat at the table. “Funny, I thought that was why you were so _jealous_.”

“You’re the only one for me, Herc,” Hamilton said, sitting down across from Mulligan and resting a hand on his. “Let’s forget these tools and run away.”

“Speaking of running away,” Laurens said, his cheek still burrowed against Lafayette’s chest as they stood over the table in the longest hug ever recorded in DC. “Eliza texted me. Hey, have you guys seen the Schuyler place in Albany? What are you all doing at the end of June?”

“We went for the wedding!” Lafayette said. “But I’ll admit I saw very little that was not the ballroom.”

“We could’ve danced all night,” Mulligan sighed. 

“Okay, well, all of you have fun with my wife up in Albany,” Hamilton said. “I’m not going.”

“Alex, I wasn’t talking to you because you’re going,” Laurens said. 

“I’m already booked,” Mulligan said. “But thanks for thinking of me and my girl when planning your sexcapades in the poly pit.”

“It’s a _lake_ , thank you,” Laurens said. He sat down next to Hamilton, across from Lafayette, with Hamilton’s arm wrapped around the back of his chair. “Eliza would love to have you. Doesn’t France give you like three years of vacation for every 10 minutes you show up to work? Just come to New York and DC forever.”

“Also, Eliza’s my wife?” Hamilton said, with a question in his voice because he didn’t like being left out of texts or conversations or anything, ever.

“She _is_ your wife and _you’re_ being a dick about taking your first vacation since… I can’t even remember, and that’s sad, because I was probably with you.”

“I do shit without you,” Hamilton said. “I go on _plenty_ of vacations, I just don’t need to overdo it and leave my responsibilities for weeks at a time.”

Mulligan sat back and tipped his chin at Hamilton. “Go on, Alex. Tell us about your last vacation. You know I’m a busy man. I wanna hear more about these highly efficient mini-vacations you take when nobody’s looking.”

Hamilton clenched his jaw and glared in turn at each of his closest friends. 

Assholes, all of them.

“Listen,” Hamilton began. “My problem stems from the very _definition_ of a vacation, which you and Eliza and, frankly, _America itself_ , have taken overboard. Historically, the point of leaving the city for the summer—”

Lafayette motioned a waiter over and ordered two bottles of wine.

“And a ceviche for each of us, to start,” Lafayette added. “For that one over there, for the Treasurer, extra lemon to tighten his sour little mouth.”

Hamilton rolled his eyes. “So good to have you back.”

“You look like Georges with that eye roll,” Lafayette said. “Did you teach him that? French children don’t roll their eyes.”

“I’m pretty sure everyone rolls their eyes,” Hamilton said.

“My precious son did not until he stayed with you,” Lafayette said. “Also, now he is an anarchist. Was that you as well?”

Laurens leaned forward and propped his chin in his hands. “We can talk about it this summer,” he said. “At the lake.”

“That is eight months away and my son is drawing anarchist symbols on his boarding school uniform _now_ ,” Lafayette said. 

“You enjoy that,” Mulligan said. “My sons are piercing _everything_ now. I mean everything.” He leaned forward towards his friends and repeated: “I mean… _everything_.”

“Pops, did you tell them about the nipple rings of your youth yet or what?” Laurens asked.

“No, but now I know who to throw in the Potomac if they ever find out,” Mulligan replied. 

“Albany sounds much more entertaining than I remember it,” Lafayette said. “What fun we’ll all have together. Remind me to text Adrienne and tell her we now have plans.”

Laurens, already on his phone, said, “Please, I’m on it.”

“Great, all of you have fun,” Hamilton said. “I’m not going.”

*

ANGELICA> why are you being STUBBORN about the lake 

you’re upsetting eliza

like actually upsetting her because you don’t want spend time with YOUR FAMILY

not even your family!!! the kids will be at camp!! 

literally two weeks with everyone you have sex with!!! 

except church bc that’s not his thing but he just wants to fish anyway

what is WRONG with you

HAMILTON> lafayette wants to come too 

ANGELICA> every! one! you! have! sex! with!

wait is mulligan not coming

why not

WHY NOT

WHAT DID YOU DO

*

Hamilton hated the capital and hated that being officially in a position of power on Washington’s cabinet meant that he had to live in that dysfunctional cesspool, as if his years in Philadelphia and Nevis hadn’t been purgatory enough for one lifetime and the afterlife to come. No, now he and his family had to live in the southern capital, just far south enough for his blood that _nothing ever moved fast enough_. 

Nothing ever moved fast enough, not the Metro, not Hamilton’s private car, not buses or cabs. That was the reason that the Department of Treasury interns quietly ran a twitter account called @AHAM_RUNS. At least two or three times a week, it would update the internet on when they could catch their sort-of-beloved Treasury Secretary freaking out and sprinting out of the building, usually in a full suit and $500 shoes. At this rate, he ran like a madman because he had to, and because it made the kids back at the office so damn happy.

“And that’s why I was running when Senator Burr hit me with his car,” Hamilton said to his beloved family and friends, who had gathered tonight in his room at the local emergency room.

“That was why he was running at night, on a fairly unlit street, in black tie, with his back to me,” Burr clarified. 

Ten or twenty necks swiveled from Hamilton to Burr. 

“I’m sorry if I don’t look more shocked or concerned at the completely ludicrous story Hamilton just told you,” Burr continued, “But I heard the rough draft in the ambulance. He’s cleaned it up a lot since then.”

Eliza held up her phone and pressed speaker.

“EVERY TIME,” yelled Angelica over the phone. “EVERY GODDAMN TIME YOU ARE ENTRUSTED TO GET YOURSELF SOMEWHERE WITHOUT THE SECRET SERVICE—”

“I offered him a ride with me and the Secret Service,” Washington added. “Don’t put this on me.”

“EVERY TIME YOU HAVE TO GO TO A GALA WITHOUT ADULT SUPERVISION, YOU SOMEHOW END UP MAIMED OR SUED, THIS TIME PROBABLY BOTH,” Angelica said.

Hamilton and Burr were in a small private room at the nearest hospital’s emergency room. Crowded in there with them were a good number of the guests expected at tonight’s private gala in honor of the Marquis de Lafayette, including Eliza, Angelica (via phone, in a cab on the way to the hospital), John Laurens, the President himself (and Raúl, his permanently irate Chief of Staff), Lafayette, and Mulligan. Also, three Secret Service agents, Dr. Mayfield, and Nurse Ronald, because why the fuck not, it was a hospital after all. 

(Sort-of present were Philip and Angelica in their first grownup gala outfits, presently enjoying the thrill of the hospital vending machine outside the room with their teenaged dates to the gala.)

“Well,” said Dr. Mayfield. “If everyone is finished talking—”

She waited and looked around for a moment, but Eliza put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t do that,” Eliza said. “Are you new to us? Don’t give anyone a chance to talk.”

“Please, everyone, Secretary Hamilton is in no danger,” said Dr. Mayfield. “Luckily Senator Burr was driving nowhere near the legal speed limit, and luckily Secretary Hamilton runs as fast as a man completely unused to running or any kind of strenuous exercise, because this could have been a lot worse if either of them were any better at what they were doing.”

“I feel like I was just insulted for _not_ killing the Treasury Secretary?” said Burr. 

“Sorry, doctor,” Eliza said gently. “There’s ten lawyers in this room. We’re literally all lawyers. We’re going to need detailed written documentation of exactly his range of motion and exactly the limit on his physical activity.”

“Start with the pelvis, this is important information we need to know,” Laurens interrupted.

Hamilton tried to sit up and immediately had his shoulders pinned by Burr and Washington.

“Could you keep still for a _minute_?” Washington asked.

“But they’re _embarrassing_ me,” Hamilton whined. “You know what? Just let me die here.”

Kind and gentle Nurse Ronald coughed behind Dr. Mayfield, a cough that sounded strangely like, “HIPAA. _HIPAA_.” Dr. Mayfield didn’t get the hint with everyone trying to get her attention at the same time, so Nurse Ronald finally whistled sharply in the room.

“Everyone who isn’t Secretary Hamilton or his spouse, please leave the room, thank you,” called out Nurse Ronald.  

“Question,” called Lafayette over everyone’s heads. “Does your cafeteria serve alcohol?”

“No?” said Dr. Mayfield.

Lafayette made a sound of disgust. 

The door to Hamilton’s room opened again, shaken open by Angelica (the elder) and her red ballgown whose skirt barely fit through the narrow door of the crowded hospital room.

“You rode Amtrak like _that_?” Eliza asked. 

“I wasn’t coming here from the train station,” Angelica said. Hamilton tilted his head because for all that Angelica was yelling at him over the speakerphone earlier, she seemed almost embarrassed now. “I was—”

“I’m sorry, I had to come,” announced Jefferson from the doorway. “Oh my god, it’s true, Burr broke Hamilton.” Jefferson removed himself from the room again and yelled down the corridor: “INTERN! GET DOWN HERE! WE GOTTA TWEET THIS!”

And that was when Nurse Ron took great pleasure in kicking everyone out of Hamilton’s room. 

*

HAMILTON> can’t one of you livetweet the gala

i thought kids loved that 

IM FOLLOWING YOU ON TWITTER AND YOU ARE BOTH SUSPICIOUSLY QUIET 

INSTAGRAM SOMETHING

i’ll embarrass you on twitter

i’ll ask america to explain snipchit and peach to me 

ANGIE JR> DAD IM MINGLING 

PHILIP MY SON> isn’t a nurse with you?? i texted mom to call the hospital and get you more drugs

HAMILTON> i don’t need more drugs i need to live vicariously 

you’re 15 and 13 you shouldn’t be having such a good time at a gala that you can’t text your dad every 30 seconds

periscope me 

PHILIP MY SON> dad no

ANGIE JR> ew no could you not 

don’t you have other kids to bother 

*

HAMILTON> ok first dose of painkillers wore off so question

YOU BROUGHT JEFFERSON TO MY HOSPITAL ROOM??

ANGELICA> i was having drinks at his place when laurens texted abt ur accident!! he offered to drive!!! 

and he didn’t get any pics of you, he was just talking shit

HAMILTON> no he wasn’t taking pics but he’s at MY PARTY with MY LAFAYETTE and BOTH MY ANGELICAS and everyone else who’s cool 

ANGELICA> lol don’t worry lafayette and tom are close but washington’s here so NO ONE is getting in with lafayette tonight 

also re: laf and washington- did they ever

HAMILTON> ask me later

ANGELICA> nm just got my answer, the secret service just kicked me and tom out of the library bc POTUS has “business” here “with the marquis”

HAMILTON> oh shit 

ALSO STOP CALLING HIM TOM HE’S THE WORST 

ANGELICA> you just haven’t given his mouth a chance

HAMILTON> brb bribing a nurse to kill me

*

In his private hospital room later that night, Hamilton was still living vicariously through the #GaLafayette tag on twitter and trying to come up with a better hashtag than fucking _galafayette_. Just as he nodded off, he woke up to Eliza prying the phone out of his hand.

“You left the gala,” Hamilton yawned, tucking the phone under his pillow. 

“We both did,” Laurens said as he came in and dragged chairs over to Hamilton's bed, one for Eliza and one for himself. Hamilton turned slightly on his side so he could see them both. They were out of their fancy gala clothes, changed into oversized sweaters and leggings to spend the night in his hospital room. 

“Don’t worry about the kids,” Eliza said. “Angelica will get Philip and Angelica home. She and Church are staying at our place for the night so we can be here.” 

“Hand over your phones, let’s see some pictures,” Hamilton said, holding a hand out for a phone. “No one posted anything good so that means it must’ve been awesome.”

“It was okay,” Laurens said as he scrolled through his photos. “I got there late because Mulligan and I were trying to convince Burr to come with us—we kinda forgot to invite him in the first place.”

“And he kinda hit me with his car,” Hamilton said.

“What were you doing running in black tie when the streetlights hadn’t come on, huh?” Laurens asked. 

At Eliza and Laurens’s death glares, Hamilton shrugged and burrowed a little deeper into his pillows. “Maybe I won’t do that anymore.”

“Maybe I’ll get you a traffic vest if you _do_ decide that you can’t wait five minutes for a cab or _your private car_ ,” Eliza said. “Also, actual sneakers. You’re not young anymore; you’re going to destroy your joints running around in those bullshit shoes.”

“Sneakers are really unattractive,” Hamilton replied. “They don’t mesh with my aesthetic.”

“ _You’re_ really unattractive under this fluorescent hospital lighting,” Laurens said. “And what color are these walls? Fucking autopsy lab teal, you think _that’s_ attractive? You think either of us want to be here with you and your broken ass when we could be licking tequila off Lafayette right now? This is how you welcome Lafayette back to the States after five years away?”

“Isn’t one of you supposed to be the good cop?” Hamilton asked. “Speaking as a concerned American citizen, you’re both being assholes right now.”

“Just doing our due diligence,” Eliza replied. “Making sure you know that the next time Aaron Burr almost kills you, it better be for a _great_ reason.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s waiting for it,” Hamilton said. “Did _he_ have fun at the gala?”

“Oh my god,” Laurens said, clutching Eliza’s hand in excitement. “He and Raúl the Chief of Staff hit it off. Like, _really_ hit it off. Like, tell Theodosia she better watch out because Aaron Burr found someone as dry and salty as himself, and who hates emoting as much as he does. Shit, I wonder if I got a picture of the two of them not-laughing together.”

“It’s true. By the time we left, Raúl almost look pleased to be there,” Eliza said. “At one point, he even offered to _get Aaron a drink_.”

“Don’t call him Aaron, it makes me itchy,” Hamilton said. “Also, coming from Raúl, that’s like a straight up marriage proposal.”

“He’s a handsome and deeply unpleasant man,” Laurens agreed.

“Also, we spoke to the doctor,” Eliza said. “I’ve already let POTUS know that you’ll be working from home for two weeks to start.”

Hamilton’s face fell. “Really? Two _weeks_?”

“To start,” Laurens added.

“The Secret Service has instructions to bar you from the Treasury building,” Eliza said. “I got a little tingly when Washington said that.”

“Okay,” Hamilton said. “So does this mean I don’t have to take a vacation _later_ because—”

“This isn’t a vacation, Alexander—you cracked three ribs, fractured some of those lower leg bones, and broke your dominant arm.”

“Okay, but that’s not _two weeks_ serious,” Hamilton said. “That’s like, three days. You _gave birth_ and were walking around the next day, how can I possibly—”

“Wow, do not go into that with me right now,” Eliza interrupted. 

“My job’s really important to me,” Hamilton replied. “I just—I don’t want to fuck up and go back to being just a lawyer.”

“Excuse you,” they, the lawyers, both said in unison. 

“You like being lawyers!” Hamilton said. “I like the law, too, but I prefer cracking skulls for POTUS, know what I mean? And I’m _good_ at it.”

“And think of how much better you’ll have to be at your job, how much _more_ persuasive you’ll have to be, when you can’t stand on a chair and yell into Jefferson’s face to make your point,” Laurens said. 

“Can Washington get me one of those iPads on a Segway?” Hamilton asked.

“Fuck no,” Eliza replied. 

“But I might be able to control it so it can follow Jefferson around town and hit the backs of his heels,” Hamilton said.

“I think that’s why his office has interns, so consider his heels covered, okay?” Laurens asked.

“I’m not done fighting,” Hamilton said. “But I think the drugs kicked in again so I might fall asleep. But this isn’t over! We’re still in a fight. I’ll fight you both.”

“We’ll be right here when you’re ready to fight some more,” Eliza promised.

“And I don’t have to go on vacation,” Hamilton added for good measure.

Laurens leaned in and whispered gently, “If you say that again, I’ll smother you in your sleep and Eliza won’t press charges. I’ll let your kids cash in their trust funds to go to Burning Man and two-week “humanitarian” trips to Africa so they can load up their future Tinders with exploitative pictures. I’ll help them publish personal essays on HuffPo detailing how little long-term assistance they contributed to a developing infrastructure, and make sure they’ll say that they did it to honor your memory. I’ll sweet talk Jefferson into hiring Philip for his presidential run and I’ll tell him, _it’s what your father always wanted_.”

“What are you, the ghost of dickheads yet to come?” Hamilton asked. “Fine, I'll go on vacation and I'll love it.”

“You’ll take care of yourself until you heal from all this and then you’ll take _three_ weeks off during the summer and you’ll let us take care of you,” Eliza said. 

“Fine,” Hamilton said. “Just… just don’t let the kids work for Jefferson. Don’t let them go to Burning Man. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Damn right you will,” Laurens said. “Eliza: _Friends_ or _Frasier_?”

“Don’t you dare watch _Frasier_ while I’m lying here all hurt and shit,” Hamilton said.

“ _Friends_ it is,” Laurens decided.


End file.
